


Rue the Day

by strangeandsombre (MysteriousStranger)



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, In the Time of the Bells-verse, This will make no sense unless you've read my bell fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 06:59:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3478736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteriousStranger/pseuds/strangeandsombre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carmilla recovers in Paris after the second world war, having escaped from the coffin with the help of her new friend and rescuer, 'Héloïse', a war nurse/field medic who she's nicknamed 'Elle' for short. Little does she know who 'Elle' really is.</p><p>This occurs in the universe of "In the Time of the Bells." I repeat, this will make no sense unless you're already familiar with the events in that fic. :)</p><p>http://strangeandsombre.tumblr.com/</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rue the Day

Carmilla had lived in silence for so long that the noise of Paris seemed unbearable at first.

It was a city of human smells and unnerving sounds lying beneath a façade of Haussmann elegance, with all its broad avenues. So they had finally completed the renovation of Paris, that she’d heard so much about, even from her out of the way home in Styria.

Having only lived among the ruins of Karnstein, Paris of the future - of what she still thought of as the future - was a revelation. She had been once before with her parents, as a very young girl, for the trip of a lifetime, but Paris was no longer as she remembered, even in her dim child memories.

Horseless carriages roaming the city startled her, modern day dress, the freedom of young women to walk about the streets unchaperoned - in breeches no less! Though technically she supposed it was still illegal for women to wear such things in public, the free and easy spirit of the young women in the city made it a non issue. Girls like Elle - Héloïse, she should really have said, but she couldn’t help thinking of her as Elle, and calling her Elle, though none of those names were right. She knew that now. But Héloïse didn’t seem to mind.

Young women all around them were working, striving, rebuilding a city after a devastating war that Carmilla had mostly missed, though she wasn’t without her own horrors to deal with.

An automobile sped by them quickly, with a toot of the horn and a cloud of black smoke. Carmilla fell back, startled and disoriented, only to have Elle hold onto her arm tightly, protecting her.

"Shh," Elle murmured soothingly in her ear. "It’s all right, you’re safe."

Carmilla took a moment to calm her shaking body, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth at her weakness. Elle waited patiently - she cared as efficiently and dispassionately as only a war nurse could. It was sometimes - too clinical. Elle hid behind this professional demeanour, observing her, sizing her up, that much she could tell. Carmilla sighed.

She wondered what Calm Liar would have made of all those automobiles. He probably would have hated them. He’d been dead these many years. They’d both left court together, so long ago. She didn’t know where she’d ever find another companion as he had been to her.

Even with Elle’s help it was hard to walk for too long, and they frequently stopped at cafés to take a cup of chocolat chaud and watch the world go by. Sometimes Elle would watch with delight as she nibbled on a simple tartine, already spread with chocolate, and then dip that into her hot chocolate. She was ever hopeful that every bite would improve Carmilla’s health. Elle would smile and tease her gently for her love of chocolate. But for that matter Elle wasn’t far behind in that same love. It was something they had in common.

"I would have thought you’d be a coffee drinker and smoke clove cigarettes, with this dark and broody Byronic thing you’ve got on."

"I can’t help my clothes," retorted Carmilla, feigning an indignance she didn’t feel.

"I know," said Elle kindly, patting her hand, before tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her fingers lingered and Carmilla imagined a softness that came into her eyes, a softness that couldn’t possibly be - Carmilla shifted ever so slightly away. She wondered if Elle would notice.

It was a little mortifying to be taken care of like a child. Feeling weak all the time, her new, dark clothes that Elle had quickly procured for her hung loosely off her already slim frame, making her wraithlike. A ghost from the past who had somehow found herself materializing into the future. She felt like a troublesome invalid, and she knew she looked as weak and as sickly as she felt. They never would have succeeded in running away together. It was just a mad dream.

When resting by an outdoor cafe, Elle would look attentively at the street, and Carmilla would look attentively at Elle, willing herself to see the other Elle. They looked so similar, but they couldn’t be the same. How could that be, when so much time had passed? She still didn’t understand it herself.

Her hand would reach to clasp the locket that always hung from her neck, a talisman that kept her anchored to memories. It was all that she’d kept from the coffin, that locket, that she’d clung to throughout her imprisonment. Her old clothes had been destroyed.

"Shall we walk along rue Mouffetard?" asked Elle encouragingly, peering into her eyes, shaded by the awning. "It’s not so far away."

It was a mistake. The little winding, cobblestoned street was not too far, but just far enough. It was what they called a colourful street. The noise, all the people, the smell of animals. Marchands, fishmongers, butchers, bakers, waiters, all plying their wares too close for comfort. Shouting in her ear, jostling her, flirting with Elle, who would smile politely and hurry her on.

She clung to Elle’s supportive arm, pressed close to her warm, living body, hunched over by the constant pain, her face pale. Stopping by the glass window of another café, she saw them both, one a picture of health, the other, a warning of a wasting sickness.

So she was finally in Paris, the city of light, the city of so many possibilities, the city she had always longed for.

And she was dying.


	2. Rue the Day: Part Deux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Elle' returns home with, uh, news.

She was well enough to walk to the boulangerie herself. The line was long but it was a quiet time of day otherwise.

The air was crisp, like biting into an apple after harvest was done. There was the smell of woodfire in the air, mingling with the last lingering scents of the morning market.

She trudged homeward, her coat collar turned up against the wind. The wool felt rough and real against her pale, cold cheek. To feel anything now was - a blessing, though it seemed strange to use such a word. A still warm baguette was wrapped up with a twist of paper and tucked under her arm. In her deep great coat pocket her fingers curled around a precious bag of warm blood. She felt grateful. Supplies were still hard to get after the war, Paris was badly beaten and broken, much like how she felt most days herself.

Home was where Elle was, and being poor, with the war work winding down, her apartment was a small chambre de bonne, a maids room, up seven flights in a garret. An old lift took them up five flights, but then they would have to get out, into a dark, narrow corridor, and walk the rest of the way up, winding around dusty corners until they got to Elle’s small bright green door.

Carmilla never asked why Elle had allowed her, so lately a stranger, to stay in this little flat in the 11th arondissement. There was space for a double bed and they slept side by side, never touching. It was only in public that Elle would tend to her as more a friend than a nurse, touching her closely in ways that made her nervous. But she was grateful for the care. She accepted it, and said not a word, and if Elle thought anything was unusual about the arrangement, she said nothing either.

Carmilla was well enough to climb, but by the end, she was exhausted. It just took one foot after the other, so she tried, day after day, trying to discover where her strength had gone. And every day, she made it.

To her surprise, when she entered, the apartment was empty. Elle was usually back by now. The last of the afternoon sun streamed in through the broad glass windows of the garret. It got very cold at nights, but the mornings were glorious.

Carmilla put the food in the little kitchenette, shrugging off her coat. She drank a cup of blood quickly, while it was still warm, and then gnawed on a heel of the bread, with a piece of salty, hard cheese. She felt better as the blood rushed to her cold fingers and toes.

She sat on the edge of the bed, staring out at the Paris sky, a light blue, a light grey, with just a hint of gold. It was beautiful, even up here in these drab surroundings.

Suddenly, the door opened and closed almost immediately with an abrupt slam. She was startled. Elle, like some small bundle of energy, had returned, dressed in her khaki field medic’s uniform, a red cross around her arm.

To her surprise, Elle took the few strides from the door to the bed and held her face between her hands. Carmilla gave a helpless yelp of surprise. Their eyes locked, both of them panic-stricken in different ways.

"I can’t take this anymore," murmured Elle, nudging close to her face with her cold nose. She nuzzled her, warm breath flowing over her face. Carmilla held her breath in shock.

Standing before her, Elle leant down and kissed her lightly, cold lips rapidly warming against her. Carmilla shivered, not because of the cold. She kissed her again, more deeply, sucking her bottom lip into her warm mouth, gently yet frantically, while Carmilla gasped breathlessly and trembled.

She knew that touch. She knew that kiss. Even as her lips were taken again, with biting kisses, and her face was being caressed by warm, loving fingers, she knew.

"You are Elle," she breathed into the kisses, one after the other. "I know you are. I always knew you were."

There was no answer but Elle kissing her desperately over and over again. Fingers, brushing her hair back, tangling into her hair.

"Don’t lie to me, please," said Carmilla with a sob, unable to help kissing her back, pulling her closer until Elle’s back arched, standing pressed up against her. Her body was so little, her body was so familiar, even after all these years.

"I am," whispered Elle with a low moan, "kiss me, Carmilla."

"Why did you lie?" said Carmilla dazed by what was happening, "Tell me your name. Your real name."

"Kiss me, kiss me, please," murmured Elle, gasping and sighing "I want you, I’ve wanted you. All this time. Oh god, even more than an eighth Harry Potter book."

In her forcefulness she pushed Carmilla against the bed, sliding over her, staring at her intently.

"What?!" Carmilla shook her head, not understanding.

"Never mind," said Elle, leaning down, kissing all over her face.

"Tell me," said Carmilla, as they kissed each other hungrily. But Elle did not answer. "Tell me, please, it’s important. I have to know who you are." They kissed passionately, their lips and tongues fused together in a warm, wanting mess, before they finally broke for air, breathing heavily.

"It’s too late," panted Elle, a hint of panic in her voice, "She’s here, I’ve seen her. By the stone coffin. She’s coming for you. She’s coming, I know it."

"What are you talking about? Who?" asked Carmilla deliriously, as Elle kissed a wet line down her neck and lay heavily on top of her, holding her so impossibly close. Carmilla’s arms went around her as a matter of course.

"Your Mother," said Elle with a broken cry, as she kissed her soft lips, licking her way inside. The kiss felt like coming home to a place that had been destroyed by fire.

There would be time enough for words, Carmilla lied to herself, as Elle’s lips sought hers, their bodies and hips aligned.

Outside, on the wooden stairs, the distant sound of light footsteps creaked upwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was probably really confusing but thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. :)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will be completely confusing to anyone who hasn't read In the Time of the Bells. Sorry!
> 
> Also posted on my tumblr:
> 
> http://strangeandsombre.tumblr.com/post/112655644889/rue-the-day
> 
> I posted this so people who follow my fic but don't have tumblr can find it. Thanks!


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